


The Hands of a Sith

by Hatless_Hatter



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: And this character study came up from it, And you know how lightning comes from hands, F/M, I'll never know, Leads are buried, Plotpoints are given up at the slightest pressure, So I was thinking about dark side corruption, What is competent dramatic timing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 13:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13482402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatless_Hatter/pseuds/Hatless_Hatter
Summary: Darth Imperius commanded loyalty. They were a force to be reckoned with. They were a frightening addition to the Dark Council. They were... Younger than had been reported.





	1. Hands Questions, and Pirates

He saw her hands the second morning after she arrived on Rishi. Well, he'd seen her hands before, but he'd seen them when they had just finished shooting lightning for an hour. This time, she had just wandered into the main living room of the safehouse, hair ruffled and unkempt, eye makeup smeared and blending rather strangely into her black tattoos. She looked absolutely miserable, eyes squinting into thin slits in the oppressive artificial light. There was no shame in her shuffling walk towards the caf machine, her hands fumbling slightly with the mugs her hands were too numb with sleep to handle carefully. 

Theron couldn't help but notice the Sith's near completely exposed finely toned body, her skinny arms laced with electrical scars, her prominent collar with a vicious lightsaber slash from shoulder to shoulder, her clothed chest and the faint lightning scars lacing past her bra, her tight skinned, noticeably burned stomach, her lean muscled thighs and calves with claw and teeth marks. She had come into the room in tight grey briefs and matching cloth bra, her exposed skin shining slightly with sweat, likely from the horrid humidity of the planet. Her hands however, drew most of his attention. Manicured nails now painted a pretty turquoise rather than the clear coat and white tips from Mannan. Theron noted the tan lines around her wrists, and he wondered if any sith really wore thick bangles that often to have tan lines that prominent. Part of him thought it was ridiculous for  _ Darth Imperius _ to wear giant bracelets. 

_ Then again, she's not exactly what I was expecting… as if I knew what to expect anyway. _

Her fingers were slender, almost to the point of being ridiculous. Surely her body fat content wasn't that low. She looked small, not unhealthy, but her fingers… her fingers gave Theron the impression that there were more than a few skipped meals in the woman's past. 

_ She's a zabrak… odds of the rest of the sith stopping her meals? Signs point to yes.  _

A long, thin scar originated from the back of the second knuckle of her right ring finger to about halfway up her forearm. It looked clinical, precise. 

_ What could that be? Too thin to be a bone replacement, but too long to just be reconstruction. Can't imagine what kind of implant would go in her arm like that.  _

It was a question to be asked later if he thought she'd answer it. 

Her hands in general, were red. Like the rest of her body. A red, orange tinted sunset color. There were no dark marks or any other discoloration other than a few scratches or scars on the backs and palms of her hands. Compared to the first time of seeing her hands back on Mannan, when they were tinged grey and black with the disturbance of dark side force lightning being channeled through them, it was interesting to see that the dark side corruption could fade after a while. 

The thought of dark side corruption being at all able to fade was little comfort, the more Theron thought about it. 

_ Maybe she is corrupted and just knows how to hide it.  _

A dark murmur crossed his mind. 

_ Sith know how to disguise themselves, even to Jedi. It would be easy to hide her corruption from you.  _

The more Theron looked at the tiny, undergarment clad zabrak woman cradling a fresh cup of caff against her scarred chest, the more he doubted the suspicion. Theron had seen sith in battle. They were terrifying and awe inspiring and glowed with the dark side, even to someone like Theron. 

Darth Imperius was not a typical Sith. 

“How early is it?” Imperius hissed quietly, eyes closed as she leaned back in her chair, mouth scowling. She sounded absolutely miserable. Theron couldn't really blame her. The humidity was starting to get to him. He couldn't imagine what it was like for a zabrak, a species given to arid climates, to slog through air that felt like water trying to force its way into your lungs. 

“Two in the morning standard time.” Theron responded, a small smirk on his face. If Imperius was awake now, she had probably been spending the last few standard weeks a few hours ahead of Rishi. That meant she would probably be exhausted after the missions he had for her. They required her to go out later in the day and stomp pirates into the dust, and that would take a few hours, even for a sith like her. 

“Which standard?” Imperius gurgled, voice thick with caf and sleep. Caf did tend to overstimulate humanoid salivary glands. It wasn't very dignified. 

“Coruscant or Drommund Kaas? There is a rather significant difference.” 

_ Oh. _ Theron thought, mentally slapping his forehead.  _ Right. _

“Coruscant.” Theron admitted, checking the Drommund Kaas timescales. 

“It's- damn. It's noon  _ yesterday _ in Kaas City.” Theron stated, a little surprised at the significance of the time scales. 

“That's what I thought.” Imperius groaned, standing up and stretching her arms and shoulders. Theron heard her joints pop. He saw her stomach muscles move beneath her skin. An ab muscle twitched rapidly, and stopped when Imperius massaged it lightly. 

“I'm still running on Nar Shaddaa time. Time is a bloody nightmare.” Theron couldn't help but agree, a small smile fighting to show on his face. 

“If it's noon on Drommund Kaas, then it must be close to ten in the morning here.” Imperius hissed, yawning halfway through her sentence. She stretched again and groaned, cracking her back with a quick twist of her torso. Theron couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her, the way her scarred yet supple, red-orange skin pulled tight against her lithe muscles as she worked the kinks of sleep out of her body. 

Her eyes rested on him as Theron realized he had been staring at her. She didn't look upset, in fact she looked rather intrigued. She smiled and quickly left the room with Theron shaking his head to clear it. 

_ Staring at a Dark Lord of the Sith is a quick way to get yourself killed, Theron.  _ He thought to himself when he lost sight of Imperius. 

_ She looks good though… for a sith.  _

He turned back to his work and almost didn't notice when Imperius came back fully clothed. When he looked at her again, he did a double take. 

“...What?” He stuttered, raising an eyebrow to the sky. 

She looked… ridiculous was the only word his mind could supply. She wore a tricorn hat, a blue and brown and gold waistcoat with a cape, matching pants, and gloves and boots to match. She looked like a pirate. A really...  _ fancy _ one. 

“It was  _ your _ idea to make me a pirate, Agent Shan.” She teased, eyes glinting with mirth as she waved a finger in his direction. 

“The very least I can do is look the part whilst I'm here.” She tipped her hat to him and winked. Throwing Theron off for a moment. 

“I hope you've noticed that the pirates around here don't wear that kind of... get up?” He stated in more of a question, still not quite able to accept what he saw. She was so  _ shiny.  _

“Oh I've noticed.” Imperius affirmed, grinning. 

“Which means everything about this costume will stand out to a ridiculous degree. Which will make my life easier when I'm done with the charade and back in my own clothing. Everyone will be looking for the foppish pirate of the ‘Howling Tempest Gang’. Or whatever.” 

Theron nodded, understanding why the outfit existed and how it would be used to distract. 

“That could be a while, you know.” He commented, looking at the armoring along the torso. It was certainly well built.

“Isn't it a lovely costume?” Imperius asked rhetorically, walking over to him and leaning over the holodisplay of the pirate's stronghold in the jungle. 

“Sure.” Theron replied awkwardly, siding away from the dark council member as she set her hat down on the table and ran her fingers through her hair, breaking the hold of the gel he knew was there because there was  _ no way _ her hair was naturally that spiky. 

“Not really a stronghold, is it?” She muttered, dragging the display towards her, tapping the 'defenses’ indicated on the map. 

“I've seen Ewoks have better battle readiness. Ignore the fact that Treek is more formidable than most soldiers and you can see my point.” 

Theron raised an eyebrow and a small smile slid across his face. 

“Who's… Treek?” He asked, feeling he had already been given enough to work with. He just needed it to be confirmed. 

Imperius glanced at him sideways and grinned, tapping the display to bring up a list of filled hunting jobs. Including wampas and a  _ krayt dragon. _

“Rishi's newest trophy hunter. A fantastically violent creature with a very cute sense of humor.” The display changed to show a tiny fuzzy ball of fur that looked like a child's comfort toy. 

“You're  _ joking. _ ” He forced out, fighting laughter. She was so  _ cute.  _

“I know she looks like a squishy toy, but she is far from cuddly. Unless you get her drunk.” 

A moment passed between them. A moment of disbelief. A moment of silence before laughter burst out of both of them. 


	2. Communications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprises continue and things are learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase that Imperius utters in this chapter is just a few syllables laced together that I liked the sound of.  
> The meaning will come later, but there is not going to be any actual alien languages in this. It's just kinda there.  
> I care, but not /that/ much.

She didn't come back from the mission like he thought she would. She and Jakarro destroyed the last transmitter and about seven minutes later, she was on the Holo, demanding the coordinates for the pirate’s slave camp. 

“Why?” He asked a little too swiftly, cursing himself for letting a sith know what they did worried him. Imperius leveled her angry eyes on him and didn't respond until Lana gave her the coordinates and the run down on the slaves. 

“The pirates take those who can't pay off their protection debts and put them to work in the mines, or sell them to other pirates or interested buyers. It's quite profitable for them.” Lana stated, sounding like slave camps were an everyday thing no one needs to care about. Then again, Theron thought, she was a sith, so to her it was nothing to worry about. That thought made him rethink this alliance for the seventeenth time.

“I think you mean 'was’ profitable.” Imperius snarled, cutting off the communication, leaving Theron worried about the people the sith was going deal with. 

“What is she going to do at the slave camps?” Theron demanded, voice rising as he considered that a Dark Councilor wouldn't care about casualties. Those people were going to die in a slave camps because they couldn't pay off a bunch of scummy pirates, and now Theron had set a sith lose to make slavery unprofitable.

“I imagine she'll make an example of them.” Lana stated, sounding surprised at Theron’s vigor. 

“Why?” 

“Those people are innocent.” He hissed, hands fisting. “They're captives to a bunch of pirates, and you just gave a dark council member their location.” 

Lana arched an eyebrow until a light dawned on her eyes and she shook her head. 

“Don't worry about them, Theron. You'll see. Just trust me.” Lana walked away and patted his shoulder in a comforting way, unsettling him.

 

Theron felt his anxiety get the better of him and he sliced into Imperius’ communicator, hearing her humming a familiar tune he couldn't quite name as she and Ashara headed towards the slave camps on a speeder. 

“Small set up. Cramped and basically undefended. Pathetic.” Imperius growled, sounding very like a typical sith. He hadn't heard a voice like that since listening to Darth Karrid. 

“... Did you really live like this? I can't imagine you in one of these cages… scared and powerless…” 

Theron took a moment to process that comment. And all of a sudden, a great many things clicked into place. 

“Oh my god…” He whispered, falling into the chair near the computer. 

Imperius sighed softly and responded in a quiet, haunted voice. 

“You'll understand if I don't want to discuss it right now, Ashara.” 

“O-of course. I'm sorry.” 

“It’s alright. I understand the intent. You didn't know me before I was running from Thanaton. If you want to talk about it later, bring me a bottle of whiskey and I'll tell you what you want to know.” Imperius took a deep breath. 

“But I am not going to talk about it before we deal with these…  _ things. _ ” 

“I am with you, master.” Ashara confirmed, voice firm and conveying a respect Theron hadn't been expecting a former Padawan to have for a Dark Council member. 

_ Maybe the reports of Imperius’ ruthless nature were exaggerated. They were wrong about everything else. She's not a pureblood sith. She's not six feet tall. She's a  _ **_she_ ** _. Ashara isn't a captive. What else did we get wrong?  _

It wasn't the first time Theron had doubted the information he had memorised about the dread Darth Imperius. 

_ Or… even worse could be she's just pretending to not be that monster.  _

It wasn't the first time that thought had occurred to him either… but he remembers how Imperius had stood defiant in front of Arkous, eyes bright and hands crackling with lightning as Arkous threatened the Togruta Jedi. 

_ “Sehrena’voss ka danak, Arkous.”  _ She'd hissed before snapping his left knee cap with the force. Theron still didn't know what those words meant, but the sickening crack of the the pureblood’s knee and the man’s accompanying shriek of rage and pain was pretty clear. 

_ Threatening her apprentice is bad for your health.  _

How much damage Darth Imperius would do for something more than a threat was an interesting hypothetical that chilled Theron to the bone. 

_ “Agent Shan, is there a particular reason why are you listening to my communications?”  _ Imperius’ clipped voice questioned, irritation evident. She didn't, however, sound angry. 

_ “I'd appreciate an answer, Agent. Just to confirm my guess.”  _

“... I wanted to be sure who I was working with.” 

A good natured hum preceded her response. 

_ “And?”  _

Theron considered lying for a split second before answering her, hand trembling as he hit the call button. 

“You're nothing like I expected.” 

Her exhausted laugh brought a confused grimace to his lips. 

_ “Not to be overly melodramatic, but I am  _ **_rarely_ ** _ what anyone expects. Any departure from the sith archetype is rare to anyone outside the empire. But that is beside the point. I appreciate your honesty, Agent Shan. I'll finish stabilizing the freed slaves and be back soon. Imperius, out.”  _ The line went dead. The line should not have been  _ able _ to go dead. Theron had sliced into her communicator and piggybacked invisibly. Or he had  _ thought _ he had. 

_ So she could have blocked my access at any point. Yet she didn't.  _

Darth Imperius was apparently determined to continue surprising him. 

_ Just hope it continues to be beneficial surprises.  _ Theron thought to himself as he habitually studied his slicing status, seeing that he actually  _ hadn't _ sliced Imperius’ communications. She had linked him in when she left to meet Jakarro. All he had done was open the metaphorical door. 

_ Stars she's good at this game.  _


End file.
